Valentine's Day (Solangelo)
by threadem
Summary: A sweet little story about Nico and Will's first Valentine's Day.


Nico was sitting alone at table 13 leaning on his elbows clutching a cup of milky coffee, hood drawn up and music blasting in his ears - the perfect picture of "don't fucking talk to me". He was up early today, of all days, thanks to a recurring nightmare, and he tried to rationalize, as he glared around the dining pavilion covered in pink hearts and paper cut-out cupids, that the other campers had not actually conspired to perpetuate his night terror - they'd never met that asshole Eros. If they had, they, too, would want to pretend this day didn't exist.

Valentine's Day.

Nico's face grew even more dark and stormy. He loved Will. Will knew it already. So, no, he hadn't written anything on a piece of paper doily and stuck it on a box of chocolates and left it on anyone's pillow, or composed a terrible song, or anything...

So, he felt kind of like an asshole himself when Will sidled up to his grumpy self, pulled off his hood and dropped a kiss on his bed-head mess of curls, and unceremoniously plunked a small jam jar in front of him. Nico stared at it. The label said "HONEY!" in Will's hasty all-caps scrawl. Nico glared at the tiny heart at the base of the exclamation point. He turned his grumpy scowl to his boyfriend's beaming face. Will plucked the earbuds from his ears and the angry dissonant roar of The Ramones became faint and subdued.

"It's honey," Will announced, as if Nico maybe couldn't read or see. He seemed overjoyed to explain, "for your coffee." Will balanced a tiny silver coffee spoon across the top of the jar.

Nico blinked. How could he maintain a fierce hate-on for Eros and everything that jerk-god stood for when Will went and did something as lovely and thoughtful as that.

At Camp Half Blood one of the perks was that one could, while in the dining pavilion, magically manifest any beverage just by concentrating on one's desired choice. For Nico, that meant cafe latte con miele for breakfast - everyday. Ever since his full memory had been restored and he could recall the milky sweet bowls placed before him as a child in Venice, that is what Nico had appear before him every morning - a ritual more sacred to him than prayer.

But he'd once confided to Will that one part of the ritual was missing. The best part of cafe latte con miele is, after the succulent scoop of creamy honey is gently swirled into the aromatic steamy liquid, you get to lick the spoon - the warmed silver almost burning your tongue as you suck off the last traces of melted sweetness.

Will was still beaming at him, waiting for a reaction. Nico fingered the silver spoon absently. "I didn't get you anything," he admitted, mentally kicking his own ass for being the worst boyfriend ever. Will shrugged, and shook his head a little, "I wasn't expecting anything..." he said unaffectedly, like, what idiot would expect romance from the Ghost King. Nico felt even worse.

"Do you like it?" Will asked eagerly.

"It's the perfect thing, you idiot," Nico whispered, finally smiling and leaning over to kiss Will's mouth. Will's grin was like a prism, bouncing light around the room. "Now for you..." Nico glanced around the decorated room for ideas - as if a paper heart or a candy-gram would suffice. He tapped the silver spoon against the jar.

"Aw, please don't..." Will began. He didn't care about some random Valentine's Day junk.

Nico peered at Will's still smiling face. He loved Will so much. He'd told Will, so many times. He glanced around the room as campers oohed and ahhed over the romantic gestures seen around the room amongst the couples and crushes. The public gesture was the thing, maybe. Sharing it with the world made it even more real.

Nico turned to face Will and pulled him close in a hug, kissing his neck. "I love you," he murmured against his boyfriend's soft skin. As Will responded with the same, Nico plucked the black Sharpie pen from Will's back pocket. He always had one for marking bandages and things when completing the medical rounds. Nico pulled back and grabbed Will's hand. Will watched, as did others who had been eagerly anticipating the Valentine's Day Nico-and-Will show, as Nico wrote in big block letters on the back of Will's hand: NICO LOVES WILL. He even drew a cheesy little heart with an arrow through it.

"That won't wash off for a week," someone commented through the chorus of awwwwwws reverberating around the pavilion.

Will was nodding. "Love it," he said sincerely, lifting his hand to admire the artwork like it was original Picasso.

Nico grinned as he unscrewed the lid of the honey jar, scooped a little of the thick creaminess and stuck the spoon in his mouth, purposefully exaggerating a moan of pleasure. Will laughed and snatched the spoon away. The taste of honey mingled with their kiss.


End file.
